


A Little Help From A Friend (Vore)

by anakinbridger541



Series: Vore One Shots (Bandom) [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Brendon Urie - Freeform, Peterick, Ryan Ross - Freeform, Ryden, Vore, do not read this if you don't like vore, patrick stump - Freeform, pete wentz - Freeform, ryan eats pete but they are not a couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 21:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13555734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anakinbridger541/pseuds/anakinbridger541
Summary: Ryan and Pete are both underweight. Solution? Weight gain contest. Too bad Ryan’s such a sore loser.





	A Little Help From A Friend (Vore)

“One hundred and five pounds, Pete!?”

Pete let out an exasperated sigh to himself as Patrick continued to rant. He’d just come back form a regular doctor’s evaluation, and it turned out that he’d fallen underweight. Between his depression, the music and various other factors, eating had been shoved to the back of his mind. Pete had always been a ‘little guy,’ but he’d stayed on the margin of healthy weight…well, until now that is.

“Are you even listening to me!?”

Pete came around when Patrick grabbed the front of his shirt. Patrick’s blue green eyes were sparkling and his cheeks were red with indignation. Pete stared back at him, his expression calm and his tone neutral. Patrick sighed.

“It doesn’t matter.” He read over the paperwork again. “We’re putting you on this fucking diet, and that’s final.”

 

“I don’t wanna go on a diet!” Pete whined.

Patrick just rolled his eyes.

“One, you don’t have a choice, and two, you just get to keep eating crap anyways. You’re gaining weight, not losing it.”

“Whatever.” Pete stood up, walking out, and leaving Patrick standing there still confounded and fuming. He’d get over it, Pete was sure, as he took a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it.

“Share the light?” a voice requested from his side.

Pete turned to see Ryan Ross leaning against the bus. That wasn’t surprising. Since both bands were touring they often hung around each other’s buses. There was always someone out and about, or someone that was bored and just wanted to chat. Often times Ryan and Pete found themselves both there, fed up with their other band members, or just wanting space. They’d become pretty good friends that way.

“Bren getting on your nerves?” Pete guessed, handing over the lighter.

“Yeah.” Ryan shook his head, taking a long drag in. “He’s puttin’ me on some diet. Says I’m too skinny.”

“Really?” Pete tilted his head. That was uncanny. “Patrick’s doing something like that to me. Guess I’m underweight.”

“No shit.” Ryan smiled a little. “I guess we can be miserable together then. They’re never gonna let up and we’re never gonna put it on.”

“Now hold on,” Pete held his hand out as if he was pausing the conversation. “Who says I’m not? I might not like it, but I’m gonna put on that weight like a fucking champ. Sorry if your too delicate.”

“Too delicate?” Ryan huffed. “You’ll never stick to a diet. I have the willpower, mind over matter, Wentz.”

“Whatever that means, I’m sure it’s bullshit.” Pete tossed his cigarette down. “I bet I can have my boyfriend off my back first.”

“Then let’s bet.” Ryan grinned. “We’ll check in at the end of the tour. Whoever’s closest to their goal is the winner.”

“You’re on.” Pete shook his hand, scoffing at the softness of Ryan’s skin. *Fucking girl…I’ll win this thing, no problem.*

*****************************************************************************************

“Hah! I knew it!”

Ryan crossed his arms, keeping a stoic expression as Pete celebrated his victory. Hard as Ryan had tried he was still five pounds under his target weight, and still pretty much as thin as ever. Pete may not have gained a ton of weight, but he wasn’t all skin and bones anymore, and his jeans were a larger size than they’d been in a few years.

“Yeah, yeah, gloat all you want,” Ryan said flatly. “I think I’ve made more progress comparatively anyways.”

“That wasn’t the deal, Ryro.” Pete was grinning from ear to ear. “I still did a better job than you, so there!”

Ryan could only take so much more of Pete rubbing it in his face. He was trying to be tolerant, but he was actually pissed he didn’t win himself. On top of that, coming out to check his weight, he’d skipped breakfast, and that only made him more cranky.

“Enough!” he finally spat, shutting Pete up pretty quickly. “I’ve had it up to here with your ego! You think I won’t put on that weight!? Watch me!”

“Whoa, easy, dude,” Pete said, holding his hands up. “We were just having a little fun, bet and all. It was your idea anyways. Don’t be a sore loser.”

“Oh, I won’t be.” Ryan smirked, getting an idea. “Not for much longer.”

“Well, great.” Pete smiled, but the way Ryan was staring was a little unnerving. “So, umm… yeah. Maybe since I already reached my target, I can help you reach yours.”

“You certainly can,” Ryan agreed, rubbing his hands together.

“…what are you going to do?” Pete knew something was coming. Ryan was going to attack him on stage, put ants and sugar in his bunk, something.

“Nothing. You and me are gonna go to breakfast, that’s all.” Ryan grabbed Pete’s arm. “My treat.”

“Really?” Pete was a little wary still.

“Oh yeah.” Ryan walked him out of the bus. “You deserve it for gaining that weight. And you know you usually put on a few pounds with food. It’ll make the scale look even better.” Better…better for me. 

 

******************************************************************************************

“That hit the spot.”

Ryan leaned back against the wall of the empty hotel room, closing his eyes and letting himself slide down. He ran a hand over his stomach, pleased with the new largeness and roundness of it. Ryan couldn’t help himself from giggling a little at the pressure against his skin from inside. Someone was being a bit feisty.

“You may be an asshat, Wentz, but you sure make a good meal,” Ryan said, rubbing his side. He was almost positive there’d be stretch marks there when this was done, but you can never tell really.

“This is crazy, Ryan!” Pete screeched, muffled by Ryan’s innards. “You can’t just swallow other people whole! I’ve got a life to live.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Ryan licked his lips. “Now you’re only gonna help me in my life, as lots and lots of calories and nutrients for my best health.”

“Come on, man, let me out of here!” Pete wasn’t a big fan of being digested. “I made your whole damn career! What’s Fall Out Boy gonna think!? How about your bandmates!?”

“You think they’d believe a wild story like this?” Ryan chuckled. “No no, silly. I’ll think up some other way around it. You’ll disappear under mysterious circumstances and end up forgotten, with nothing left of you but a grease stain on the sofa and some leftover eyeliner.”

“Seriously FUCK YOU, DUDE!” The best thing Pete ever bought had turned into the worst investment he ever made.

Ryan just yawned, closing his eyes. Pete must’ve been packed with tryptophan, because he sure was tired. He carefully got up, walking over to the bed and laying back against the headboard and pillows.

“Sleep tight, Pete,” he whispered, getting only a gurgle from his belly in response. Pete had given up…succumbed to his fate and a part of Ryan forever. Ryan fell asleep to the steady contraction of his muscles, digesting Pete Wentz out of existence.

*****************************************************************************************

“Man, you look great, baby.”

Brendon kept his arms around Ryan, smoothing his hands on his boyfriend’s soft belly. Ryan had put on all the weight he needed, and maybe just a bit extra. While definitely still skinny, his stomach was now soft and pliable under Brendon’s fingers, and it looked great, especially in tight shirts…or no shirts, which was Brendon’s preference.

“Thanks, Bren.” Ryan leaned back on his partner, closing his eyes and enjoying the rub. “Couldn’t have done it without Pete.”

“Yeah…” Brendon sighed. “I really miss that little shit sometimes. We sort of owe it all to him.”

“Oh, I’m sure he died knowing he was appreciated,” Ryan assured, nibbling on Brendon’s neck a little. “I mean, I was there…encouraging him the best I could.” He sighed softly, smiling when he knew Brendon couldn’t see. “I just wish he would’ve lasted longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback is appreciated in the comments. Requests open (I might not write them all, but it doesn't hurt to ask!).


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